


it didn't matter

by JennaS_26



Series: it didn't matter [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dark, Hopeful Ending, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Violence, Soul Bond, Soulmates, This shit is dark, Triads, Violence, not gonna lie... its kinda graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:47:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27238291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaS_26/pseuds/JennaS_26
Summary: this is a depressing take on soulmates that kind of broke my heart.'They all said that soulmates were perfect for each other. They (the luckier ten percent of the population) said that the love they had for theirs was a wonderful thing. Of course they fought sometimes, like all relationships, but that was life.Harry wanted to know why they lied. It couldn’t be just him, so why lie about it?Unless the Dursley's weren’t wrong. That the way they acted toward him… it really was love. But it couldn’t be, could it?'if there is enough positive feedback, this might become more than a one-shot.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Theodore Nott/Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini
Series: it didn't matter [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2121009
Comments: 37
Kudos: 141





	it didn't matter

**Author's Note:**

> There is a lot of information missing in this story. It's mostly sorted out in my head, but I need to know if I should make this a long fic, or drop the entire concept, so let me know your thoughts! Feedback is absolutely necessary for this to be completed. Anyway, here's my attempt at a one-shot!

It was supposed to be nice. They all said so. Theirs all were, at least, that’s what they said.

He didn’t understand.

As a child, he believed that his family was wrong. As the years dragged on, he eventually turned eleven. That was supposed to be a new beginning. A school of magic was supposed to be different from the life he led with them… and it was. Sort of.

At the Dursley's, he was ‘boy’ or ‘freak’ or any other insulting thing they could think of at the time. At Hogwarts, he was ‘the boy who lived’, ‘the Gryffindor golden boy’ or ‘the Potter spawn’. He was never Harry.

At the Dursley's, he was made to work like a house elf. At Hogwarts, he only did chores when he was in detention. That was nice, even if scrubbing cauldrons was more disgusting than his chores at his family's house (except for Dudley’s room).

At the Dursley's, he was beaten daily. At Hogwarts, there were almost never flying fists, but there were plenty of ‘mis-aimed’ hexes or minor curses that no one ever seemed to witness.

At the Dursley's, there were only a handful of people who hated him. At Hogwarts, it depended on the Daily Prophet. If it was favorable, he had a few friends and everyone else left him blissfully alone. If the paper decided to be vicious, he had the entire school upset, rather than the usual quarter (Slytherin). No matter what he did, Slytherin would always hate him. That didn’t bother him too much. At least they were consistent.

At the Dursley's, he had no friends. At Hogwarts, that was mostly true. It took a while, but he finally realized that the few friends he had at school were fair weather friends at best, or money grubbers at worst. That was okay. They always seemed to be there when he was at the end of his rope. The rest of the time, it didn’t matter. That was just small stuff. It didn’t matter that they didn’t know his favorite color or sweets or hobbies. He knew theirs. That’s what mattered. He especially wasn’t mad that they didn’t know his hobbies. After all, he’d only gotten one this year.

It didn’t matter. He knew that Hermione liked sky blue, strawberry petit fours, and ballet (watching, not participating). Ron liked Gryffindor red and Chudley Cannon orange, and most sweets, but his favorite were licorice wands, and aside from the obvious (chess and quidditch) he liked carving miniature racing brooms by hand.

He knew his friends, even if they didn’t know him.

What he didn’t know, was how could they be so wrong about something so important? To be fair, it wasn’t just Ron and Hermione that were wrong, but everyone.

They all said that soulmates were perfect for each other. They (the luckier ten percent of the population) said that the love they had for theirs was a wonderful thing. Of course they fought sometimes, like all relationships, but that was life.

Harry wanted to know why they lied. It couldn’t be just him, so why lie about it?

Unless the Dursley's weren’t wrong. That the way they acted toward him… it really was love. But it couldn’t be, could it?

His soulmates didn’t behave that way with each other, just with him. If anything, the way they treated him seemed to bring them closer together. It shouldn’t matter that it pushed him further away. They were happy together, and he was probably going to die soon anyway.

That was it. They didn’t want to get close to him because they knew that he couldn’t possibly win against Voldemort. They didn’t want that pain when he died. It was so obvious!

Suddenly, it didn’t matter anymore.

Harry Potter woke, stiff and sore, like every morning, but didn’t dare make a sound. He knew better.

Gathering himself silently, he slowly rolled himself to his hands and knees. From there, he had to wait a few moments so that he could regain some of the feeling in his cramped limbs.

Before he could get up, there was a hand on his back.

“Look, Theo,” Blaise said mockingly. “It wants to play again.”

“What, last night wasn’t enough?” Theo scoffed, sounding both amused and disgusted. “Presenting on all fours like a bitch in heat, isn’t it?”

He wanted to say ‘no’, because it wasn’t anywhere close to the truth, but he knew not to speak. Years of training left him with that knowledge at least. Knowing what to do and when to do it. The only way to survive.

It didn’t matter. It was only temporary. Soon enough, Voldemort would kill him, and then his soulmates could be happy together.

As they took their places, he idly wondered whose name the other would take after graduation. Would they be Zabinis or Notts? Theodore Zabini or Blaise Nott? Maybe they would hyphenate their names, so that they could keep their own, but make it known that they were unavailable? The Zabini family was wealthier, but the Notts were in better social rank. They probably shouldn’t use Nott first if they were going to hyphenate.

Just the thought of having someone call out their names like that was almost funny. They would be standing in a crowded place and someone would call out “Hey, Nott-Zabini!” and it would sound like not-Zabini, so everyone whose last name wasn’t Zabini would look.

But then when people snickered, they would get angry.

When those two were angry, it wasn’t a pretty sight.

How many people would get hurt?

That wouldn’t be fair to innocent bystanders. Maybe he could think of a way to broach the subject with them?

“So, how are we going to divide the holidays, love?” Theo asked, slamming his hips forward in a brutal pace.

Theo certainly wasn’t talking to Harry like that.

“Mother prefers that we spend New Years with her, so Yule with your parents?” Blaise grunted. “Switch sides with me, love. It’s too bloody tight.”

Harry knew what Blaise meant, so he tried to get as much saliva on Theo as possible. Blaise was longer, but Theo was massive in comparison.

Before he knew it, Theo was out of his sight line and Blaise was taking his place.

Never having closed his mouth, Harry waited for the intrusion, hoping that Theo would be first. He didn’t want to accidentally bite Blaise when the pain hit.

“That sounds good, but what do we do with this?” Theo asked, slamming in.

Harry wanted to scream, but choked it back. Had there not been enough saliva to make things easier? He refused to let his tears fall.

“It sure as hell isn’t coming to my house.” Blaise scoffed. “Could you imagine? I’d be disowned if I brought this fucking thing home to Mother.”

“Same…” Theo struggled a bit. “With me. But we can’t leave it here. People would talk. Send it home for break. I’m sure the muggles… will-fuck!- deal with it.”

He couldn’t help it, the tears fell. He’d never gone to the Dursleys for Yule break! There was never an issue with him staying at Hogwarts before!

“Nope, I’m done.” Blaise said, sounding disgusted, as he pulled out of Harry’s throat.

“What’s wrong, pet?”

“It’s fucking crying.”

“Well,” Theo replied, strained. “We’ll just give it a reason, then, won’t we?”

Harry stared at the floor, terrified of what would come next.

For a few minutes, nothing happened, but that didn’t slow his heart rate. Whatever it was would wait until Theo was finished. The young man had needs like any other, after all.

Harry was thankful that he had Herbology for his last class of the day. In that class, he could stay standing and no one would be the wiser.

It also helped that, under Petunia’s tutelage, he was used to plants and weeding and the like. Over the years, he’d actually begun to enjoy it, digging his fingers into the (usually) soft earth to pry up plants by the roots or wriggling the seeds down just far enough for them to grow. He didn’t much like the lessons that were about how to store the plants, as he would rather dig around in the dirt. At least they got the theory and general information about the plants while tending them.

Everything was fine until Professor Sprout called the practical portion of the lesson to a close. “Alright, everyone, take your seats. Today, we’ll be having a pop quiz on our new friends, the Gallywumps.”

Shite. Harry took his time washing his dirty hands and drying them before he had to take his seat.

Letting out a slow breath, he sank gently into his seat, feeling the heavy polished wood shifting inside him. When fully seated, he did his best not to shift or fidget in any way. Had he known the counter charm, that thing would not still be… in there.

That was something else that Harry couldn’t understand. How did people enjoy it? Obviously not that in particular, but sex in general? It doesn’t make any kind of sense. People might have found him mad for rushing into danger, but he thought they were all crazy for wanting sex. It wasn’t so much that it was very much painful, but that there was nothing to balance that pain. It didn’t give him butterflies, or a tingly sensation or anything close to pleasure. It fucking hurt.

How did the Weasley’s have so many children? There was not a single instance that he had enjoyed himself, so it wasn’t just an occasional issue.

We’re people just better liars than him? Sex was supposed to be this great thing to do, but did the others say it was great because it was supposed to be? Or was it just the ones on the… receiving end of things? Theo and Blaise seemed to enjoy themselves, especially in him. That has to be it. Nothing else makes sense.

Now, he really did feel bad for Mrs. Weasley.

Maybe he should start keeping pain potions on him in the ‘soul dorms’, though he was sure it would be easier to go back to his regular dorms. At least there, he was given a bed.

“All right, everyone!” Professor Sprout called out, jarring Harry from his wandering mind. “Time’s up! Leave your tests on your tables and I’ll collect them. I’ll see you all next week. Have a good weekend!”

Last year, he would have found himself excited for the weekend. This year, it just meant that he could get away without being seen by the rest of the school without being in any kind of trouble. The only people that saw him on the weekends were Blaise and Theo. Every Monday, the few friends Harry did have would playfully rib him on why he’d vanish for so long, and tell him that sleep and food were important too.

He’d spent the majority of last weekend suspended from the posts of their bed while they slept or went to Hogsmeade for lunch.

A few months ago, they’d started giving him potions that didn’t work. At that point, they had been together for several weeks, but every time they had sex, Harry couldn’t… well, get it up. So, since then, they had begun trying new and different ways to get him hard, but none worked. The potions had been ordered from an apothecary, and were meant for older men, not sixteen year old boys. They had even tried double dosing him, but all that did was give him a pretty intense headache.

All it did for them was piss them off. In turn, they decided that since he was sure as hell, not going to top them, that it didn’t matter. His job as the submissive, was to bear them children, but they ‘liked the practice’ for when they were out of school. Apparently, there was a lot of magic put into keeping any students from getting pregnant. Honestly, for a while, Harry wished that he could get knocked up, if for no other reason than to keep them off of him. If that was all he was good for, then so be it. If he even could get pregnant, they wouldn’t need him anymore, or at least until all three of them had heirs for their titles. There were days that he prayed to find out that he was carrying triplets, just so that they could part ways.

He was long past the shock and confusion about male pregnancies. Still, he was in awe with the entire concept. That was one thing he had always hoped for; a large family. When he realized that he was gay, he wasn’t upset. All that meant was that he would adopt. Then the soulmate bullshite happened and he found out that he could have his own.

The terrible thing was… now he didn’t want any, adopted or birthed. Just because he was stuck in a horrible situation, didn’t mean that he would subject a child, or in this case, three children, to that kind of life. This was his lot in life, and he’d accepted it (mostly), but he was not going to make a child suffer in such an unhappy home.

It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t live to see the end of the war anyway, so it made no difference.

Merlin, he wanted to talk to Sirius. Maybe he could spend Christmas- oh, wait. If Theo and Blaise were trying to be rid of him for break under the guise of being together, then staying with Siri (and most likely the Weasley’s) wouldn’t work. According to, well, everyone, soulmate bonds were unstable for the first year. That was actually the reason that Hogwarts lasted until students were seventeen. The bonds kick in when someone turns sixteen. It wasn’t a foolproof method by any means, but it is what it is.

Harry had asked a lot of questions about that when he’d found out. What about people that weren’t the same age? What about the people whose soulmate didn’t go to Hogwarts? What about the ones that wouldn’t be able to meet until later in life?

In response to all of his questions (there were plenty more besides) he was given one answer. Magic. Needless to say, Harry wasn’t satisfied with that, but he couldn’t find any answers.

“As our regularly scheduled Yule break happens to fall on a Sunday this year, all of your families have been notified that all students who will be heading home for the holidays will be dismissed tomorrow morning instead of Sunday. That said, I hope you’ve all packed!” The headmaster said jovially, watching as the students broke out into frantic whispers and excited conversations.

“So, Harry, have you and your gorgeous snakes decided how to split up the holidays?” Dean asked with a smirk. “Splitting it up three ways sounds annoying.”

Harry nodded, remembering the conversation from this morning. “It would be, but since Blaise and Theo’s families both had the holidays planned since summer, we’ll be spending the first week or so with Theo’s family, then the rest with Blaise’s. I guess they’ve got vacation homes in other countries that they stay at every year.”

“What about yours?” He asked curiously.

“My what, vacation homes?” Harry snorted. “Simple answer, I don’t have one.”

“No, you berk!” Dean laughed. “Your family. Don’t you usually stay here?”

Uh… “They’ve been invited, but couldn’t make it. Since I was a bit of a late development, they’d already agreed to stay with my uncle’s sister in Lancaster for the holidays.” Damn, being surrounded by Slytherins was bringing out his lying abilities in full force. That was one of the only good things that had some out of this whole mess. His lies were usually stuttered and forced, but now they just rolled off his tongue at a moments’ notice.

“Fair enough,” Dean shrugged, not questioning why Harry’s family had made holiday plans without him in mind. It wasn’t his business.

“Maybe with your rich snakes, you’ll finally stop wearing such ruddy clothes, eh?” Seamus joked. “Get a new wardrobe for Yule.”

Yeah, funny. Bloody hilarious. It took a lot of effort for Harry not to roll his eyes.

Before he knew it, the Great Hall was clearing out.

With one last sigh, Harry got up gingerly and headed toward the dungeons. His stomach hurt, and he desperately needed the loo. Hopefully, Blaise or Theo would finally relent and release the sticking charm.

Noting that he was alone in the corridor, he slowed his pace, as the large piece of polished wood was really starting to become painful. That’s not to say it wasn’t painful all day, but with his increasing need for the bathroom, it was becoming steadily moreso.

Rounding the corner, he ran into something soft but solid and landed firmly on his bum, smashing the bit of wood deeper inside.

He choked off the pained cry, but silently lay there, willing the pain to stop.

“Sorry, Potter.” Draco (no longer Malfoy) said, extending his hand. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” he gasped, ignoring the offer. “Just winded.”

“So… you planning on laying there all night?”

That sounded good to Harry.

“I don’t imagine it’s more comfortable than sleeping in your bed, especially without a couple of extra bodies to keep you warm.”

His bed? Ha! What bloody bed? Actually, it’s just as comfortable as his room. “You’re probably right.”

“Merlin, I should hope so.” Draco snorted in a very un-Malfoy-ish way. He held out his hand again. “Come on, before my friends skin me alive for injuring their poor wittle mate.”

Something flashed in Draco’s eyes with those words, but it was gone just as quickly.

Harry took the proffered arm and got up, doing everything he could to avoid letting on how injured he was, but he couldn’t hide a wince.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry lied easily. “Just landed on my hip.” He took a few seconds to breathe before heading to his room.

At first he didn’t notice when Draco didn’t branch off at the Slytherin dorm, but was still following him. “Um, Draco? What are you doing?”

“Going to my room?”

“You’re in this hall too?” Harry asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise. This hall was reserved for the soulmates rooms. “How did I not know that?”

“Because you, my friend, are blind as a bat.” Draco ribbed him goodnaturedly.

“Can’t argue that,” came the truthful reply.

When Draco walked past Harry’s door, Harry realized that he hadn’t thought to ask who the blond who he was mated to.

As expected, Harry’s clothes vanished the second he door clicked shut and his collar (they called it a pendant, but it was a fucking collar) warmed.

Oh. It was going to be one of those days. His heart dropped. The collar kept him from speaking, but was only able to be activated within the confines of their rooms. He couldn’t ask either of them to remove the sticking charm.

‘Please!’ he mouthed, not bothering to fight the collar. It hadn’t ended well the last time. He knelt carefully beside the bed, sure to keep his legs apart to ease some of the pressure.

Blaise scoffed. “Love, I think it wants something.”

“Maybe if we ignore it,” Theo said blandly over his shoulder. “It’ll go away.”

‘Please take it out.’ He mouthed desperately.

“Love, I don’t think it likes your lesson. It wants to give back your present.” Blaise rolled his eyes and rummaged around his bag.

Theo finally looked at him. The disgust on his face was clear as day. “After you shower, I’m putting it back.”

Harry was stunned. Theo had spoken directly to him. That didn’t happen very often.

With a flick of his wand, the sticking charm released. “On all fours!” He barked.

Harry wanted to resist, but the collar had other ideas. His forearms immediately went to the floor and his legs separated further.

For once, he was glad that the collar wouldn’t let him make any noise, otherwise he surely would have screamed as the wood was yanked on. It didn’t fully come out, but that wasn’t surprising, as the end spread out into the shape of a lightbulb, nearly doubling its already painful width. The length was as big around as his wrist, but the end was bigger than his fist.

It twisted sharply, but the dry tearing sensation was eased with some kind of lubricant that Harry suspected was his own blood. Even with the ‘lubricant’, it wasn’t going to be easy.

“I don’t think it’s going to come out.” Blaise said to Theo, almost sounding bored.

“So, what do you suggest?”

“Maybe if you widen the base a bit and have it fuck open its hole some, it’ll slide out. Probably take a while though. Go quicker if one of us adds lube.”

“Fine. Don’t waste too much on it, though. That’s for you to enjoy.”

“You’re damn right, it is.” Blaise chucked.

From his place on the floor, Harry heard what sounded like kissing. His pain increased when the length inside him expanded, but was barely lubed. He saw their feet going around to the other side of the bed and the wood started shifting in and out a few inches at a time.

Over the next two hours, tears came and went, and the ‘present’ Theo had ‘given’ him was slowly working him open.

To his horror, he heard soft snores. They fell asleep! Fuck! Nonononono!

If he could have, Harry would have screamed his relief when he heard the familiar chime of Theo’s alarm. It was six thirty. For a minute or two, they groaned and stretched before Harry’s hand was stepped on.

“Oops,” Theo snorted.

“Hmm?” Blaise replied sleepily.

“We forgot about it again.”

Blaise yawned. “Well, it should come out now.”

“Hopefully,” Theo said, climbing to his feet. “Otherwise it’ll be stuck there until we get back after break.”

Harry felt the wood stop. Finally! Tears poured in relief, but he kept his head down so they couldn’t see.

“Anything?” Blaise asked, heading to the bathroom.

“Not so much as a drop.” Theo replied incredulously, checking under Harry for something. “We would get stuck with a bloody defective mate. It doesn’t even work!” He grasped Harry’s prick and gave it a few tugs.

Harry whimpered.

“Still soft as a sock.”

They could hear the shower start. “That’s hardly surprising!” Blaise called out. “All those potions we poured down its throat should have been enough to make him ready for the entire quidditch team. I’m telling you, it’s broken!”

“Not exactly a loss, though, is it?”

“I said that months ago, and you’re just now listening to me?” There was a scoff. “Neither of us would ever let it top, so what difference does it make? It doesn’t have to work, as long as it can still get pregnant. I might be a switch, but there is no fucking way I’ll ever destroy my body for a bloody child.”

“Of course not, pet,” Theo said, following his lover. “The only one that gets to wreck that lovely arse is me.”

Harry heard Theo say something else, but couldn’t make out what it was… until he felt the piece of wood jerking out of his body. Harry bit down on his knuckles, as they were still anchored to the floor.

Hours later, an exhausted Harry fell asleep on the train, in a compartment by himself. He had gone to the Hogsmeade station with his mates, but pretended (for the sake of others, not them) that he was going to wait for the train with some friends. Tucking behind a pillar, Harry threw his invisibility cloak on and stood as close to the platform as possible.

Before the doors were fully opened, he squeezed through and claimed the compartment closest to the front and warded the hell out of it. Wanting to lie down, he whipped out his wand and the two benches became one, large bedlike bench. It wasn’t meant to do that, but it didn’t matter. With his lack of sleep, more than usual, especially now, his magic wasn’t behaving properly, but it worked well enough to get him by.

He curled up into a ball, wrapped in his cloak, and used his arm as a pillow. It didn’t matter.

It was eight thirty. The Dursleys were very late. It was around fifty kilometers to Surrey and he had no muggle money. It wasn’t until after nine that he’d gotten up the courage to ask someone for change for the pay phone. He was terrified. What if, even though they knew he was coming back for Yu-Christmas, they left anyway? Was that why no one was there to pick him up?

“Dursley residence?” Came Petunia’s slightly confused greeting. Normal people did Not call after eight at night.

“Aunt Petunia? It’s Harry. Uncle Vernon didn’t pick me up.”

“Of course not! We were promised that we only had to put up with your filth during the summer!” She shrieked into the receiver.

Harry pulled the phone away from his ear. “I’m sure it would be nice not to have to pay for someone to shovel the walk and the driveway for a couple of weeks. And you won’t have to call a service when your bridge club comes over for your Christmas party.” Harry froze. He never once thought he would beg Petunia to let him stay, let alone do their chores in exchange for a ride. That thought alone made him feel ill, but there was nothing to be done. He didn’t have any Wizarding money either, so calling the Knight bus was out as well. “Please, Aunt Petunia, I can’t walk that far in this weather.” He whispered, hoping no one could hear through the little glass doors of the narrow phone booth.

“I’m going to the market in the morning. I’ll pick you up then. You’re going to pay dearly for this, Freak.”

In the morning?! What was he supposed to do until then?! He held in a breath and counted to three, knowing she would hang up any second. “What time, ma’am?” He asked, subserviently.

“When I get there!” The receiver slammed down, leaving Harry’s ears ringing.

Now what?

At around four am or so, Harry felt something tap his shoulder.

“You can’t sleep here, kid.” A tall officer stood in front of him, making him feel very small.

“Sorry, officer. I wasn’t trying to. My aunt is picking me up in a few hours.” Harry was at least honest.

The police man rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard that one before, kid, as well as anything else you could think up.”

“No, officer, please! I really am being picked up. I spoke with my aunt last night. Since we were scheduled to be off for break on Sunday, the school arranged it for us to leave on Saturday, since there weren’t any classes. My aunt missed the phone call, and she isn’t able to get here till morning.”

“What school do you go to, kid? I ain’t heard of a school doin’ that before.”

“Schriffwell Preparatory Academy, sir.” Harry was glad for the little packet he’d been given in his first year, along with all the muggleborns. In the packet, there was a brochure for a massive ‘academy’ that was really just an empty manor, so that they could tell their families (that didn’t know the truth) about their mysterious new school. There was even a number in the phone book, which was linked to a special office in the muggle liaison office at the Ministry.

“Schriffwell Prep? Damn, kid, why didn’t you say so?” The officer laughed. “My sister told our cousins all about that place. They wanted to go so bad, but, like me, they didn’t have the… right requirements, so to speak.”

He couldn’t mean… No. “Requirements, sir?”

The officer leaned in close. “Couldn’t go to a place that they can’t see, can they?”

Harry gasped.

“My sister was a Raven Prefect for three years. Never did get Head Girl. Mighty upset by that, she was. Did manage to hold the keeper spot on the House Team for a couple of years though. She tried explaining the rules, but I was too mad that I was a squib and couldn’t go, so I refused to listen.”

“This is unbelievable.” Harry said, mostly to himself.

The officer smiled widely. “Well, I’m off the clock in about…” he glanced at his watch. “Nine minutes. What do you say we go on to the coffee shop across the street? You can tell me what the ruddy hell a keeper does. I never did bring myself to ask after I ignored her.”

Hell, why not? Even if the ‘squib’ was really a death eater in disguise, it didn’t matter. He didn’t have all that much to fight for anyway. Fuck it. “Sure.”  
With a quick nod, the officer said he’d be back soon.

At a few minutes past five, Harry found himself at a quaint little coffee shop with the officer, Alan Bones.

Harry kept his coat on, but did sling his scarf on the back of his chair. “Any relation to Susan and Amelia Bones?”

Officer Bones’ eyes widened. “Don’t know a Susan, but how’d you know my aunt Amy?”

“I met Auror Bones last year. Susan is her niece, same year as me. She’s a Puff.”

He looked confused. “I thought Aunt Amy’s family, that side anyway, was killed years ago.”

“All but Susan, as far as I know. I think her fathers’ name was Edgar or Edward?”

“Hello, dears!” Said a happy older woman with a notepad in hand. “Name’s Elsie. What can I get for you?”

“A very large coffee and whatever fruit scone you have today.” Officer Bones said with a smile.

“Alrighty,” she said, jotting it down on her notepad. “What about you, lad?”

“Nothing, thanks.” Harry said, forcing himself not to think about food. Supper on Friday was the last time he had eaten. Saturday morning he was too busy packing, since he hadn’t been able to do it the night before, then he’d slept through the trolley witch’s usual visit, but again, he’d had no money, so it didn’t matter.

Elsie didn’t look too happy with that. “Are you sure, dear? You look like you could use a nice cup of cocoa.”

“No, thank you.” He smiled up at her. “If I eat now, I won’t be hungry for Sunday breakfast. It’s one of the only times we can all gather.”

“Isn’t that sweet?” She cooed, patting his cheek.

He blushed, not used to having people act that way toward him.

While Officer Bones hadn’t been thoroughly convinced, he let it go, but did order Harry the cocoa Elsie offered (and paid for it) . For a while, they just sat and chatted, mostly about quidditch. Harry had to explain that the keeper was like a goalie for football… just fifty feet in the air.

“So, kid.” Officer Bones began. “It’s after ten. Still trying to say that you’re being picked up?”

Harry was startled. Had it really been that long? “I really did speak with her last night. She just wasn’t able to give me an exact time.”

“How about a reason?”

Yeah, right. “Had to get the car to the garage. It broke down and she had to wait till they opened to get it checked. I should give her a call, I suppose. It is rather late.”

After a fake phone call, Officer Bones pretended to believe that Harry’s aunt was on her way, but one of his long time mates was already on patrol in that area. He would have his friend check in every once in a while to make sure that kid got picked up. If the kid was still there by noon, he’d get in touch with his sister to owl the school.

Around eleven, Petunia still hadn’t shown up. The two cops that were patrolling the area had been watching him a bit too closely for comfort, so he left. He knew it was a bad idea, but he had little choice in the matter. He could either let the policemen pick him up for loitering, then drop him off at the Dursleys, which would mean much more pain than what he was already expecting… Or, he could try to make it there himself. If Petunia did eventually show up, and he wasn’t there, he was still going to be in for it for making them waste precious petrol.

Either way, he was screwed. If he was brought in by the cops, however, he’d likely not make it back to Hogwarts. Walking it is.

Harry was going to freeze to death.

He tried to stick to the route that the Dursleys would use to drop him off every year, just in case Aunt Petunia happened upon him, but no such luck. The sun was going down, and with it went the last shred of warmth. The scarf wrapped around, not only his neck, but also much of his face, was doing little by way of warmth. If he had the scarf that Mrs. Weasley had made, it would be another matter entirely. Those, at least, had heating charms woven into the yarn.

But, that along with most of his other non-Wizarding clothes had been thrown into the fireplace in his dorm. The Weasley sweaters he’d been gifted each year were the first to go, but because of the collar he had just been forced into, he could do nothing to protest as he watched his things burn. His soulmates said that he couldn’t be seen in such atrocious clothes, as it would reflect badly on them.

It hurt, even still, but didn’t matter.

Despite having grown up in a nice house, he never had anything. Never any gifts, never any clothes in his size, never even saw an eye doctor. Bloody hell, the glasses he wore were from a second hand shop, and they were the only pair that hadn’t given him a near instant headache. He’d stolen them so that the school would stop hounding the Dursleys.

In any case, he had only made it a few kilometers by the time the sun had gone down. At this rate, he would only be halfway to Surrey by the time he had to turn around and get back to the Hogwarts Express.

His lungs and muscles burned fiercely and he’d lost feeling in his hands, feet and face hours ago. He would have to find somewhere to stay hidden for the night or he really would freeze to death.

If this was his only other option, were the Death Eaters really that bad? Every inch of him was already in pain, but at least with them, he would be warm while in pain.

As he was looking for a place to sleep, he came across a park. With the lateness and swiftly dropping temperature, it was completely deserted. He somehow managed to wriggle into one of the plastic tunnels and wrapping himself into a tight ball, he fell asleep.

\-----

“What the hell is going on with us?” Draco demanded, though his usual venom was masked by his chattering teeth.

“If I knew,” the potions master sneered. “I would have done something about it! Cease your complaints, as they will do no good!”

Draco whimpered, snuggling closer to his mate. “Do you think we’ve been poisoned, Severus?”

Not one for the cold, Severus was losing patience quickly. Both he and Draco had been shivering by the fire for several hours, and there didn’t seem to be an end in sight. They had been scanned over by three separate healers, none of which could find anything wrong with either of them. The healers were confused, but said that they were fine.

“Have either of you come up with any other symptoms?” The second healer, Marksen, asked in a bored tone.

“I beg your pardon?” Severus snarled. He certainly didn’t care for the less than subtle insinuation that they were faking an illness.

The other healers sighed at Marksen’s antics. The idiot should know better than to insult their patients, especially in their own home!

Healer Crowe told Marksen to leave. “And now that he’s gone,” she smirked. “I must ask if you’ve completed your bond.”

“Of course we have,” Draco scoffed. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I understand that this is a sensitive question, but would you both show me your marks?”

Severus was confused, but more than that, he was stunned. Asking to see someone’s mark was akin to asking to see their genitals, the location having little to do with it.

Draco squawked. “Absolutely not!”

Rather than immediately comply, Severus raised his brow. “Is that necessary?”

The third healer, Abingteal, looked at her in surprise, but stowed it away quickly.

Crowe had the decency to appear apologetic. “Thankfully, I don’t have to ask this often, as I know how private these things are.”

“Then, if I may-” Severus cut himself off, shivering violently. “Why do you need to see our marks?”

Draco just shook his head.

“It’s just a theory, but-”

“You want us to show you our marks based on a theory?” Severus asked calmly.

“I do, yes.” Crowe nodded. “If it helps, I will take an oath in addition to the standard Healer's Oath.”

“That would be… agreeable.”

“Sev!” Draco half shouted, appalled. He threw the mountain of blankets aside and pushed himself up from the settee, and promptly crumpled on the marble flooring with a pained gasp.

Crowe kept Severus from tending to the blond, while Abingteal scanned Draco twice before levitating him back onto his seat.

Confusedly, the healer began to untie Draco’s shoes and removed the laces entirely before taking them off. Slowly, she peeled away his designer socks, shocked. “Seda? He’s developing frostbite, but showing no outward signs…?”

“Indoors?” Healer Crowe was intrigued. Her theory might actually be correct. “Professor, your mark, please.”

“And yours, Mister Malfoy.” Abingteal said encouragingly.

They complied, however reluctantly.

After a few moments examining the two entwined ribbons (one black and one silver) on their left hip bones, Crowe frowned deeply.

“I didn’t want to be right.” She whispered, more to herself than anyone else. “It’s been tampered with.”

Back under the mountain, Draco cried quietly.

Beside him, Severus was furious, but occluded and settled. “Are we not-?” He cut himself off, unable to finish the question.

“Mated?” Crowe supplied. “You are, but the bond is incomplete due to the tampering. The symbols you bear have been altered. There is meant to be something within your ribbons. Alanya, do you see the haze, just there, in the center? It has been blocked, but I’ve never seen such a thing.”

Abingteal looked more closely at Draco’s mark, her eyes wide. There was a faint gray shape that she couldn’t identify, but it was there.

“What does this have to do with our symptoms?” Severus asked, forcing back the bile that was making its way up.

“Master Snape,” Crowe began sadly. “The symptoms are not yours. They are coming from your third.”

\-----

The sunlight was blinding as it shone through the plastic tube Harry had somehow managed to fall asleep in. It did little to warm him, but any little bit was better than what he was feeling at that moment. Even so, it took a very long time before he was able to free himself from the tiny space and longer still to make his pained muscles cooperate well enough to get moving.

He barely made it to a nearby cluster of trees to relieve himself, and immediately had to tug his zipper back into place. He had to get back to the main road. Petunia would have to see him. Despite being unsure as to whether or not she would actually pick him up, he needed to hold onto the possibility.

Much to his astonishment, Harry had only been walking for another two hours or so before a familiar silver sedan pulled up.

“Hurry up!” Aunt Petunia shouted from the driver’s seat. Her eyes widened briefly and she hit the button to roll the window down a few centimeters. “That filthy thing is not going to ruin my upholstery!”

For a moment, Harry thought she had meant him, but realized she was talking about his trunk. Though he had brushed off the thick layer of snow when he woke up, the lower half was covered in snow and frozen dirt clods.

“Lay something down in the boot, you idiot!” Came the shrill shout.

Lay in the boot? But there were so many cars that could see him! But he couldn’t disobey. How would he fit though?

He stared at the open boot in confusion. He was thin enough, but his legs couldn’t wrap around the trunk…? What was he supposed to do?

“Put your coat under the disgusting thing, you worthless-”

She went on to call him a string of horrifying things, but he knew how to tune her out. He was just relieved that she wasn’t making him climb into the boot with the heavy trunk. What the hell was going on with him? Putting his coat down was a fairly obvious choice, so why was he so sluggish to understand? Maybe he was as dumb as so many people liked to tell him. It wasn’t that hard to believe at this point.

When had he ever made intelligent choices? Most of his mistakes were made at Hogwarts, beginning on his very first day! Turning down Malfoy’s hand in friendship was probably the first. They were sort of friends now, but how would things be if they had gotten close all those years ago? Arguing with the Hat, not going where he was supposed to. Maybe he would have done well in Slytherin. He might have been friends with his mates and they might have actually liked him when the time came to join them in the Soul dorms.

Damn near every choice he’d made after that, was a mistake. Let’s go fight a troll! Let’s go harass a cerberus! Let’s go after the stone! Let’s fly a car to school! And on and on and on.

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, Harry did his best to get the zipper on his coat to comply. It didn’t want to. He pulled off the thin knit gloves and gasped. Well, he thought, intentionally not looking too closely at his strangely colored fingertips, I suppose that explains the burning. Struggling with the zipper still, he eventually got the damned thing off and laid it down and nearly cried when he picked up the heavy trunk.

With traffic and bad weather, it took longer than usual to get to Privet Drive. Harry didn’t mind. He was too busy relishing in the heat that was blasting directly on him from two different directions. At first, he held his slowly freezing hands in front of the heater, but that burned worse than the snow and wind. Instead, he just tucked his discoloring fingers up under his arms and hoped for the best.

\-----

“Was it like this before you and I got together?” Draco asked, clutching his teacup in both hands, desperate for the warmth that wouldn’t help.

“Not quite, Dragon.” Severus inhaled the dark brew coffee and shifted his cloak, laying it over the back of his ornate chair. “With you, I did have to keep from laughing during a lecture half on half a dozen occasions. Your happiness very nearly lost me the reputation I have cultivated over the past twenty years.”

Draco snickered, but sobered quickly. “Do you think he’s been feeling us too?”

“It doesn’t seem likely, does it?” Lucius said, taking his place at the head of the long table. “From what you’ve told me, Draco, I would guess that if he was feeling you, his own pain is masking it. Did you feel anything foreign before Severus approached you?”

He thought hard for a moment. “Maybe a flicker, every once in a while, but it was gone just as quickly. It wasn’t there long enough to analyze, so I usually just brushed it off as nothing.”

“Has it gotten better for either of you since last night?” Lucius asked curiously. He hated seeing his son in pain, as well as his closest friend, but there was next to nothing he could do for either of them. That was why he had summoned the Healers. Whatever they were dealing with was incredibly worrisome. He’d never heard of a case like this. Then again, only just having found out what exactly they were dealing with, he hadn’t had much of a chance to find out how to help them. Being so close to Yule he had very few obligations to see to, and he planned to spend the majority of the day in their extensive library. There must be something.

Severus took a sip of his coffee before answering. “Very slightly.” He sighed. “While I no longer feel the need to climb into your fireplace for warmth, I am still having difficulties with my hands and feet. Dragon?”

“I have as well,” Draco admitted. “I’m exhausted, and… disoriented every so often, but like Severus said, most of the cold is gone.”

“It looks like you won’t be getting any of your brewing done, Severus.” Lucius joked weakly. He knew that it was hardly important in light of things, but his friend truly did enjoy brewing for fun. While he didn’t understand the fascination, he did understand that it was a large part of the mans’ life.

As one, both of his breakfast companions let out pained sounds. Severus dropped his mug and Draco folded into himself, clutching his ribs.

“What is it?” Lucius asked, panicking slightly.

Neither answered right away, but after a few slow breaths, Severus spoke. “It appears…” another breath “that our third…” another “has broken-”

Whatever their third broke, Lucius never found out as they both tipped out of their seats. He rushed to his unconscious son first, shouting for an elf to firecall the Healer as he cradled his son carefully. To his surprise, his friend was still conscious, but clearly struggling.

Coming to a horrible realization, Severus let his tears fall. From his own youth, and difficult times with the Death Eaters, he was familiar with the sensations of abuse. What felt like an invisible, but practiced, fist blasted across his right cheekbone. Despite knowing it would do no good, he couldn’t help but press his palm over the area. His breath came in short gasps as the blows continued.

“Oh, Merlin!” Healer Abingteal cried, rushing into the room. “What happened?”

Lucius shook his head. “I don’t know. We were discussing the bond, then they collapsed. Severus is still awake, but Draco…”

“Third… being… attacked…” The potions master said, panting. Finally giving into the pain, his eyes fell closed.

\-----

Blinking blearily, Harry was confused. To start with, he wasn’t lying on the floor. And it was pitch black, save for a thin sliver of light that cut across his legs. Something was stabbing several spots into his left side. It wasn’t enough to break skin as far as he could tell, but it was enough to annoy him greatly and aggravate his ribs.

Then it dawned on him. He was back in his cupboard. Why wasn’t he in Dudley’s second bedroom? Since his first summer out of Hogwarts, he was never put back into the cupboard. Why now?

A loud bang sounded not far from Harry’s face and the sliver of light shook.

“GET UP, YOU USELESS LAYABOUT!” Vernon shouted, hitting the tiny door again for good measure.

“Yes, sir,” Harry croaked, gasping in pain as he tried to sit up.

“Oh, Vernon,” Petunia said, sounding both amused and exasperated. “You forgot again, didn’t you?”

“What was that, Pet?” Vernon asked, his temper being switched off like a light as he turned to his wife.

“Just be careful not to mark up his face again. We don’t want any of those freaks coming here because the boy bruises like old fruit.”

He sighed, deflating as if he were a child being scolded. “You’re right, Pet. I’ll remember next time.”

“That’s all right.” She replied with a smile. “What would you like for breakfast?”

On his hands and knees, Harry struggled to get the rest of the way through the door.

Vernon prattled off a long list of food to be made and his wife nodded along as though she would be the one making it all.

“Of course, dear,” she kissed his cheek. “It will be ready in half an hour.”

Harry paled. How was he supposed to make pancakes, sausages, bacon, eggs, fresh biscuits, tea and coffee, as well as juicing enough oranges to make three full glasses in half an hour? There was no boxed mix for the pancakes or the biscuits, so they had to be made from scratch. What was he going to do?

Scrambling to his feet, he got to the kitchen as quickly as possible while his uncle announced that he was going to have a shower. The first thing he did was preheat the oven and pull out everything he would need to make those first.

Harry was back in his element, even if he did hate every second. In being here, he knew exactly what was expected of him, exactly how to do it, and he no longer had to think about what he was doing. His mind switched to autopilot and off he went.

Vernon came down the stairs after thirty-four minutes and dropped into his chair, which groaned and creaked in protest.

Quick as a flash, Harry was able to plate everything in triple portions, including the coffee, tea and juice.

“BOY!” Vernon growled. “Where is the rest?”

Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion before his eyes widened in realization. “The biscuits are coming out of the oven now, sir.”

Dudley was lumbering down the stairs slowly, and Harry was shocked at what he saw. In the four months since he last saw his cousin, he grew. Dudley had gone from just morbidly obese to terrifyingly large. Nearly as wide as he was tall, Harry noticed that only his arms were the only part of his body that wasn’t pure fat. They were enormous, but with muscle. He had also developed breasts that were large enough to make most women pout in jealousy.

Coming into the kitchen, he actually had to turn slightly to get through the doorway, yet still managed to touch both sides of the frame.

At this rate, Harry mused, forcing himself not to stare or laugh, by the time I come back for summer break, they will have been forced to remodel the entire house just to allow him to go from room to room!

“What are you looking at, you fuckin’ freak?” The only time Dudley was allowed to swear in front of his parents was when he was berating Harry, so he took the liberty to do so at every available opportunity. He hip checked Harry as he was taking the baking sheet out of the oven, which was forced shut on his arm.

He bit his lip so hard that it drew blood, to avoid screaming when he felt the scorching heat from the door on his forearm. The baking sheet fell a short distance back onto the rack with an echoed clatter.

Dudley didn’t move until he covered his nose, griping about the smell that assaulted all their noses.

Harry couldn’t take it anymore and let out a bloodcurdling shout, which was immediately muffled when Dudley grabbed him by the throat. He dropped to the floor in agony, unable to look away from the large patch of blackened, blistering flesh.

“So help me, boy, if you’ve burned my breakfast, I’ll make sure you never see the light of day again!” Vernon spat.

“Yes, sir,” Harry whimpered weakly, his burned arm shaking too violently to use. The biscuits weren’t burned, just off kilter from being dropped a short distance. Only one fell off the tray and it was lying in the back, under the wire rack.

“Get to the cupboard!” He snarled. “The smell is putting us all off our food. You’ll come back out to clean this up as soon as I leave. Do you hear me, boy?”

“Yes, sir.” Harry said, wincing when his overly large shirt brushed along the massive burn.

Harry wasted no time in getting back into his cupboard, and didn't mind that the lock on the outside slid shut. He needed to do something about his burn, but had nothing to tend it with.

Upon inspection, he noted with revulsion that the acrid scent was his own burning flesh, and most of the area was blistered and some of the blackened bits were already flaking off. Some of the blisters had popped, the clearish fluid dripping across his arm, aggravating the mark.

How was he going to keep it from becoming infected? Better still, how was he going to keep the pain from blinding him while he was doing the long list of chores that his aunt surely had waiting?

Unshed tears welled up in his eyes. He wouldn't let them fall. He couldn't let them fall.

\-----

Two days later, Draco couldn't take the pain anymore and had to be put under sedation. The only time he was able to come out of it was between midnight and six am if he was lucky. It seemed that the only time they weren't in debilitating pain, was when their third was asleep. Although, Severus mentioned that a few times, it stopped during the day. He was loath to admit that he was glad, despite the fact that it appeared as though it was because their third lost consciousness. It wasn't like at night, when it would slowly fade, but so sudden that it often took his breath away.

Desperate to find some semblance of normalcy, the occupants of Malfoy Manor became nocturnal. Even Yule gifts were exchanged at one am, rather than ten.

When Christmas came, Draco was left sedated and Severus was unable to leave his bed. Rather than the pain fading around midnight as usual, it actually got worse, and Severus was completely exhausted but couldn't sleep.

He lay awake for two days straight.

Putting it plainly, no one had a very happy holiday.

\-----

Much like the day they left Hogwarts, Harry locked himself in an empty compartment on the train. He didn't have the energy to attempt transfiguring the bench, so he carefully situated himself on the narrow bench and settled down to sleep.

Rather than stay and chat after the welcome back feast, Harry went to the Soul Dorms, desperate for some rest.

“Hey, Potter!” Draco called out.

Harry turned slowly, waiting for the blond to catch up. “Hey, Draco. How was your holiday?”

“By the looks of it, a sight better than yours.” He raised a perfectly sculpted brow. “Are you all right?”

Rolling his eyes, Harry continued down toward the dungeons.

“So, have you heard about your fellow lion, Brown?” Draco said with a hint of mischievousness.

“Not all of us keep an ear out for gossip, Draco.”

“She and her mate, who was it? McClagger?”

“McLaggen.” Harry snorted. “His name is Cormac McLaggen.”

“That’s unfortunate, isn’t it?” He replied, seemingly horrified by the name. “Anyway, they’ve been pulled out of school! Want to know why?”

“Not really. It isn’t my business.” Harry shrugged.

“Fine, then I won’t tell you.” Draco huffed.

“Okay,” came the reply.

Draco’s resolve only lasted about three seconds. “They had to move into her parents house because someone forgot that contraceptive charms need to be used outside of Hogwarts! How thick could you get?! Well, she’s about to get a lot thicker at any rate.” He dissolved into muffled laughter.

A pang of jealousy made Harry stop. Why did it seem like he was the only person in the world without some form of family? “Do you even hear yourself when you speak?”

“What?” Draco asked, bewildered. Everyone else thought it was hilarious.

Harry just went to his room.

As soon as the door shut behind him, his clothes vanished and he lost the ability to speak.

Blaise made a disgusted sound from next to the large bed. “It’s back.”

Paying the comment no mind, Harry headed for the loo. Maybe a hot bath would do him some good. It certainly couldn’t hurt.

He gasped, falling into the doorway, as something prodded at the transfigured bandages around his ribs.

“Oh, good.” Theo remarked sarcastically. “Now it’s even more broken than before!”

“If it’s useless, do you want to deactivate the pendant?” Blaise asked, sounding bored. “It can watch while you and I have some fun.”

“Might as well,” Theo sighed. “Who in Merlin’s name wants to look at that all night?”

Harry waited, hoping that they really would deactivate the collar.

“Holy shite,” Blaise said, finally looking at Harry’s emaciated form. “Didn’t anyone tell it that it’s supposed to ride inside the train, not under?”

Theo snorted, but touched the collar with his wand. “Go.”

He definitely did not need to be told twice. As his clothes magically reappeared, and his throat tingled, he made his way to the loo.

Wincing at his discolored feet, and his sore muscles, he sank into the blissfully hot water.

\-----

“How long until this stops, Sev?” Draco said with a slight whine. “I don’t know how much longer I can take this!”

Severus let out a slow breath and held out his arms, waiting for his lover. “It will not stop until we locate our third, and fully bond. You know this, Dragon.”

Holding onto his injured, but unblemished ribs, he glided through the water and into his mates arms. “I do, but how do we find someone who is obviously being tortured, without any other information?”

“I cannot answer that, my Dragon.” Severus lathered up some shampoo and gently massaged it into Draco’s platinum locks. “Though I did notice that upon the students’ return, that my own symptoms seemed to lessen. Did you notice it as well?”

“Of course I did,” Draco said. “It went from borderline agony to merely really bloody painful. So, do you think that whoever it is, is here now? Another student or staff member?”

“That would be my best guess, though that’s all it would be. A guess.” He pulled away slightly, to scrub his own hair.

“So…” Draco said, coming up for air and wiping the water out of his eyes. “All we have to do is pay attention to our pain levels, then see who is nearby when it eases?”

“With any luck.” Severus said simply. “If it is a student, then it is likely that they will be in my class. If it is another member of staff, which I highly doubt, then there is a good chance of finding out at the staff meeting this Friday.”

“Hold on,” Draco’s brow furrowed. “Earlier, in the corridor, on my way here… I actually don’t remember hurting. I had spoken to a few people, then the closer I got to here, when I was alone, it started back up again.”

“Who were you with?” Severus asked hopefully.

“I know it isn’t much help, but most of the upper year Slytherins. Well, and Potter, but that was only a few seconds, and he’s already mated. So, maybe during a house meeting, try to get a feel?”

Tucking his head under the potions Master’s chin, Draco traced little swirling patterns on his mates’ chest.

“As I am bisexual, and you are a homosexual, it stands to reason that our third is a male. If it is indeed an upper year Slytherin, then that narrows things greatly. In seventh year, there are only two with similar inclinations, and four in sixth year. In fifth, I believe there are… one or two. Whoever our third is, they can’t be any younger, thank Merlin. That information is very much useful. With a bit of luck, you might have narrowed our search from upwards of one hundred, down to less than a dozen.”

Draco preened under the praise.

They stayed silent for a while, but eventually, they had to get out of the steamy water.

“I know it’s stupid, but I don’t want to let go.” Draco said sadly.

“Nor do I, my Dragon.” Severus kissed the top of his young lovers’ head. “Though I fear it is neither you nor I that is feeling particularly… clingy.”

Severus climbed out of the bathtub, keeping a firm grip on Draco’s hand to assist him out. Immediately after casting a drying charm, he picked his Dragon up and carried him to bed bridal style. “We will look in on the snakes tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

Nestled under the covers, Draco put a halting hand on Severus’ chest. “Wait, Sev. I want- can you- I need to feel you. Please?”

Seeing the silent tears on his lovers lashes, and the ache in his own heart, he flicked his wand and doused the lights. “A wonderful idea, my love.”

Together they hoped to ease the ache that belonged to someone else.

\-----

Harry woke the next morning to the sound of Theo’s alarm. He dragged himself off the ‘bed’ he’d been gifted the night before. It was a dog bed. Due to his various injuries, he was unable to curl up the way he wanted, so only his upper body was on the bed.

As slowly as he was moving, he was beaten to the loo by both Blaise and Theo. He stood outside the door for half an hour, trying not to wet himself, before they finally came out.

In the five or six minutes it took him to get ready, his mates continued to shout at him to hurry up. Living with them for so long, this ceased to bother him. By now it was habit, which was why he bathed at night.

He slung his knapsack over his shoulder and followed them to the Great Hall for breakfast.

“Hey, guys,” he said easily, sliding into his seat at Gryffindors table.

Hermione, Dean, Neville and Seamus all greeted him happily. Ron was apparently on his way. That was hardly surprising as the Hall was less than a quarter full at the moment. Only the staff table was full, and of the students present, most of them were Slytherins and Ravenclaws.

One Ravenclaw was just walking in. Her platinum blonde locks were flung out on all sides as she twirled around in circles with a happy expression on her face, and she came to a stop near Harry and his friends.

“Hey, Luna,” Harry said with a light smile. “D’you want a seat?”

“Not really,” she said cryptically. “Things will soon be as they should. It’s already begun. It makes the Ferulina very happy and happy Ferulina make people celebrate. Will someone dance with me? They really do love it.”

“Sorry, Luna,” Neville said, trying to keep the girl from feeling bad. “This lot is not one for mornings.”

“Yeah, but maybe little Harry wants to celebrate with you?” Seamus said, nudging him in the ribs playfully.

It took every bit of focus he had not to cry out.

“Oh, that’s all right. Harry isn’t feeling well.” She made ‘shoo shoo’ gestures at Seamus and took his seat, resting her head on her injured friends’ shoulder. “They will make you better soon enough.”

“Sure,” Seamus rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I want to file a complaint.”

The group looked at him in confusion.

“Why is it that all the beautiful people flock to you?” He joked, looking at Harry. “Seriously, save some for the rest of us! This isn’t fair!”

“Some people deserve a little beauty in their lives.” Luna said dreamily. “Ooh, porridge with bananas! My favorite!”

Used to Luna’s prattling and sudden topic changes, Hermione didn’t skip a beat as she slid the serving dish toward the younger girl, not bothering to challenge her supposed ‘knowledge’ about the so-called Ferulinas. She already knew that there would be no evidence supporting her strange claims.

She squeezed his hand lightly.

Professor McGonagall came around with their new class schedules.

Harry and the others perused their time tables and made mental notes of the changes. For him, the only changes were switching Herbology and Potions, and his elective changes went from Divination and Care of Magical Creatures to Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Hopefully by the time he graduated, he’d be able to sit for the OWLs in those classes. Even if he didn’t take the NEWTs for a while, any kind of employer would know that he at least had an understanding of the subjects.

“Couldn’t anyone wake me?” Ron said breathlessly, dropping into the empty space between Hermione and Neville.

They bickered a while and Harry went back to his dorm for his things for Herbology and Charms, both of which were doubles today.

\-----

“I don’t understand, Sev,” Draco moped, snuggling deeper into his mate’s arms. “I was so sure it was a Slytherin. There was no one else nearby when it stopped. I’m sorry.”

“Do not fret, my Dragon.” Severus ran his fingers through his lover's silky hair. “Our search shall be narrowed by Friday evening at the latest. By that point I will have had most of the students in a class, as well as the faculty meeting. All will be well soon.”

“Well, yeah, but there are a load of seventh years that don’t take potions.”

“Hardly.” Severus snorted. “Off the top of my head, I can only think of… two dozen or so males that don’t take my class between all four houses.”

“Why does Friday have to be so far off?”

Severus chuckled. “It is already Tuesday. You, my dear, have no threshold for pain.”

“Whoever it is,” Draco said firmly. “The first thing we’re going to do is make him see a bloody healer. I spent half of today unable to breathe! Do you know how hard it is to manage the team when you can’t breathe? While flying fifty feet in the air?”

“You will reschedule practice. You cannot possibly fly without endangering yourself. Until at least next week. There are no Slytherin games scheduled until next month, so there will be no loss.”

“Sev!” Draco’s eyes widened. “I have to break our losing streak for the cup! I’m tired of seeing the bloody gold and red banners every year, and I know you are too!”

“Not to the point that I would willingly risk your health and safety.”

“Oh, fine, but you get to tell the team.” He huffed.

They snuggled together tightly and fell asleep.

Whimpering and moaning woke Severus to an intense stinging on his outer thigh. “Draco, whatever you are doing, you must stop!”

Draco was still whimpering in his sleep, digging the heel of his palm into his own leg.

Severus shook his shoulder. “Love, wake up.”

With a hiss, the blond woke. “What the fuck? My bloody leg is on fire!” He threw the blanket aside and checked over the unblemished skin for some kind of clue.

“It would seem that our third is unintentionally alerting us to his unhappiness.” Severus said sadly, all too familiar with the type of pain they were experiencing.

“What the devil are you talking about?” He demanded, clearly frustrated. “By burning us?”

“By injuring himself.”

That made him stop. “Why would anyone deliberately injure themselves?”

“For many, it is a measure of control.” Severus explained. “The seeming inability to control anything in one’s life may, in serious situations, cause one to seek to control the only thing they feel they are able. Physical pain.”

They hissed as another flash of pain lanced through their legs in unison.

“D’you think this person is meant for us because they’re broken?”

“That very well may be, my Dragon. We may be tasked with healing him. It is possible that we may all help each other.”

“Does that mean that you’ll glamour the bags under my eyes in the morning?” He joked weakly.

It was in that moment that Severus realized how truly pampered his young Dragon really was. The finery that Draco was surrounded by was by no means what he meant, but pampered in the sense that he had apparently never had a sleepless night, or dealt with real physical or mental pain. Severus prayed to every deity he could think of that it would remain true.

He knew exactly what their third was doing, as he had been in a similar situation in his own youth. Dealing with too much too young could damage anyone, given enough time and pressure.

With what little information he had, he got up and went into his office, Draco following quickly after him.

“What are you doing, Sev?” Draco asked quietly, taking a seat on a comfortably upholstered chair opposite his lover.

“I intend to compile what little we know to narrow our search. I highly doubt it is a member of staff.”

“Is it because he’s burning himself?”

“Not burning, cutting.” Severus replied, pulling out a drawer and removing three very large stacks of folders, each stack had a corresponding year. “Would you care to assist me?”

“Yes, of course,” Draco said, gasping as another invisible cut tore its way across his skin. “Alright, so… we know that it’s a male between fifth and seventh year.”

Well over half of the stacks put themselves away. “And that they do not have my class on Mondays or Tuesdays.”

“Well, that rules out the fifth years entirely.” Another third of the remaining files disappeared. “If they’re willing to do… that then maybe we should eliminate anyone with good backgrounds?”

“Not necessarily.” Severus sighed. “Even those from the best environments can succumb to pressures.”

“Then, how else can we narrow it down?”

“We will have to go through the rest manually. Take a pile and divide them based on whether they are in either long standing or frequent relations with females. Unless they have no preference in regards to gender.”

“Oh, wait, take out all the Slytherins too.” Draco said, remembering the house meeting they’d had several hours before, as well as the disappointment.

“Yes, thank you for reminding me.” He waved his wand and another stack went back into the cabinet. “Also, eliminate anyone who is particularly playful or outgoing.”

“That’s most of the Puffs and Gryffindorks.”

“Don’t completely overlook them, Dragon. As you well know, we all wear masks.”

“True. Also, the mated. We’ll take those out as well.”

Severus nodded his assent.

In the end, there were nine folders left.

\-----

Harry dragged his spoon through his fruit salad, occasionally taking a small bite.

“You coming, Harry?” Hermione asked politely. “McGonagall will be upset if you’re late again.”

Looking around, he was surprised to see that the Great Hall was nearly empty. “Yeah, sorry. Let’s go.”

Unsurprisingly, class did not go well. They were working on animate to inanimate transfiguration and it wasn’t an easy task on the best of days. Having been on this lesson for several months, the professor started giving them animals that bore less and less similarities to the things they were to be turned into.

In the end, he was the only one that couldn’t manage it and was assigned a two foot essay as a result.

Thoroughly humiliated, he packed up his things and made his way to the library.

Switching electives made him a regular in the library, more so than ever, even with Hermione dragging him and Ron there over the years.

He decided to hold off on his transfiguration assignment as he didn’t have to hand it in until the following class, which wasn’t until Monday. Runes, on the other hand, was tomorrow and he still wasn’t even halfway finished with that.

By nine thirty, Harry was ready to bang his head off the wall. What the hell had he been thinking? Taking up two subjects that were already difficult, three years later than most? Why did he let Blaise and Theo talk him into taking such difficult courses? It would have been fine if he’d at least had a rudimentary knowledge of either subject, but he was going in blind!

Cramming his books into his already full bag, he hefted onto his shoulder and headed slowly for the dorms. Merlin knew he wasn’t going to rush, not to be there. Why should he? Especially to the two people that were supposed to love him dearly.

For all the nonsense that Dumbledore spouted about love being the most powerful of magics, Harry was sure it made him a squib as far as love was concerned.

Why was it that the ones that were supposed to love him, always hurt him the most? Why were people so excited by the idea of love? It was a lie. People didn’t die without it, so it obviously wasn’t necessary. He knew that if this was the way that love felt, he’d sooner spend his life alone, and be happier for it.

Approaching the door to his dorm, Harry steeled himself before going inside.

He paid the occupants no mind as he dropped his bag and went for a bath.

Halfway there, he heard a barking voice. “On all fours.”

Immediately, his body reacted and he dropped painfully to the floor, his knees and forearms anchoring themselves to the carpet.

To his immense surprise, he felt not only the cleansing charm, but also a lubrication charm.

With no preamble, Blaise slammed into him, pistoning in and out with shocking speed, despite Harry’s natural resistance. “It’s too bloody tight, even with the lube. It almost hurts.”

“That’s fine, love.” Theo purred, removing his robe. “It’ll loosen up in no time, I’m sure.”

“Easy for you to say.” Came the snarky reply. “You’re not the one having your cock strangled.”

“It bleeds too much when I go first, you know that.”

Harry was glad for the silencing aspect of the collar for once, otherwise he would get himself into a lot of trouble.

“You know, Harry,” Hermione said with a hint of irritation. They were studying in the library and Harry looked terrible. “There are a lot more important things in life than having sex every night.”

“Excuse me?” Harry asked, bewildered. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you! You’re clearly not sleeping, you’re always distracted, and when-”

“Enough!” Harry slammed his book closed. “Because you seem to know everything, tell me, how often do you find me here? How often am I studying? How about the fact that I’ve already resigned from the team? When was the last time you heard of me sleeping well? My time is spent responsibly. No, I don’t have nearly as much sex as you seem to think I do. But, wait! You’re all-knowing, I forgot! My apologies, Seer Granger. I would say ‘goodbye’, but I’m sure you already knew I planned on leaving. Five points to Gryffindor if you can guess where I’m going!” He called the last part over his shoulder, ignoring Madam Pince’s sniping.

He wished that Hermione was a seer. It would make things a lot easier.

Rather than go back to his dorm, he ducked behind a suit of armor and threw the invisibility cloak over his head. Curfew was in just over an hour, so he would wait. With that in mind, he opened his book and continued to read.

\-----

“We screwed something up.” Draco huffed, flinging himself onto the soft couch.

“Yes, my Dragon, I have surmised as much.” Severus replied easily. The last few files they had whittled down to, were not their third. He’d even given some lower year Hufflepuff detention as an excuse to get close to the only ‘Puff that was on their short list. It was fruitless, and now he had to oversee a detention.

Draco hadn’t fared much better. Twice his aches and pains had lessened dramatically, but there were so many people milling about that it made no difference.

In the end, they were able to eliminate their entire short list. Back to square one. Mostly.

They began again. Male, fifth year and up, not in any of the Tuesday through Thursday classes, but he could have been absent for whatever reason. Not a Slytherin and not mated. They stopped the list there. They didn’t even bother to eliminate the ‘straight’ people from the list, as there was a small chance that their sexuality was being denied, or simply wasn’t known. It was possible for someone, even as a bisexual to have only dated the opposite sex so far.

“We will figure this out.” Severus said gently, knowing how much it was affecting him. Of course, it affected him too, but Draco was not taking things well. The blond simply didn’t understand the constant pain of their third and it was getting to him.

“Why do they keep hurting him?” Draco asked in a small voice. “And why doesn’t he get away from them?”

“It isn’t always so simple, my Dragon.” Severus nudged his mate’s legs out of the way and took a seat, pulling the young man close.

“I don’t understand how anyone could bear the thought of staying with someone who was… doing that to you.” The pain from the previous night had been horrifying.

They had just been lying in bed, wrapped in each other, when the searing pain had hit. Draco had unintentionally dug his nails into Severus’ chest and drew blood, crying out, while Severus became infuriated. “We’ll find him tomorrow, right? We can help him by tomorrow night?”

“If all goes well, then yes.” It was well known that Severus was not an optimistic person on a good day, and this was only different because he had Draco, who was very much an optimist, to think of.

\-----

After the soft chime signaling curfew, Harry waited ten minutes for Madam Pince to leave the library. It was ten more minutes before he decided it had been long enough and went inside.

It took a while to find what he was looking for, but eventually, he found a few titles in the restricted section. For hours, he poured over the largely delicate tomes, only to realize that he was completely and utterly fucked. The books all said the same thing with few differences. If a soulmate bond was broken, the mates would die. All of them. According to ‘Blackest Arts of the Soul’, a woman had eleven mates (both male and female) and was so desperate to escape one of them that she tried to break the bond with that one specifically, and within two hours, all twelve of them were dead, leaving their twenty-three collective children (all still underage) as orphans. They had been divided up by the four of-age children and raised separately.

Thankfully, Harry’s own triad bore no children, but he still didn’t want to kill either of them. So, he looked into what would happen if he ignored the bond and went off alone somewhere. For a while it seemed like a promising idea. That thought didn’t last. After just one month of separation, their health would begin to rapidly decline, but it wouldn’t kill them for several years, if at all. Within two months, they would be vegetables. One such case was in Prague over two hundred years ago. A middle aged man left his mate and was totally bedridden within six weeks. He and his mate were vegetables for over thirty years before they were euthanized by a kind young nurse. She created the killing curse specifically for euthanasia and used it on one member of the bond, and the other member died the same day.

Eventually, Harry decided to look into one last solution. It wouldn’t have been his first choice, but by this point in his ‘relationship’, it honestly wasn’t much of a loss. Their bond would be perfect… if he wasn’t in it.

It was the only answer that didn’t involve all bond members dying. Just one.

‘Soulmate Bonds: All You Need to Know’ said that only in bonds with three or more people, there was a failsafe. As there would be more than one person to share in the grief of true love lost, it was possible that if one member were to take their own life, the other members would suffer little by way of physical health. It stressed quite plainly, that this was in case of mental illness. According to the author, that was the only reason that someone would consider leaving a soulmate bond, and Magic gifted those with said mental illness as a way to remove themselves without injuring the others.

So that was it. His only option to break free was to die by his own hand. If he was killed by anyone else, as he had planned, they would die too. He didn’t want that. They had parents and in Theo’s case, siblings. It didn’t matter how they treated him, because their families didn’t make them do it. It wasn’t their fault. Theo and Blaise could be happy together by themselves, and their families wouldn’t lose their children or brother. So, why drag it out? If Voldemort got the chance to kill him before he killed himself, there would be two desolate families. It wasn’t necessary.

It would be best to get it over with quickly, and if their relationship was any sort of indicator, they wouldn’t grieve for very long. Honestly, they would most likely be fine by class on Monday.

The only issue was that Harry hated the idea of not killing Voldemort the way he was supposed to. It was simple enough to get over that though. With him out of the way, someone who actually stood a chance against the man-snake, could take up the mantle. Someone more worthy could be the ‘hero’ that he supposedly was.  
He knew he wasn’t a hero. Bad luck and stupidity got him into life threatening situations, and he only ever got out of them by having worse luck, accidents and outside help. That wasn’t heroic. It was… well, shitty. He wasn’t actually stupid, he knew that he caused more problems than he solved.

Really, there was no true down side. Sure, his friends might be upset for a little while, but they’d get over it. It likely wouldn’t take much longer than his mates. They would probably grieve the loss of income more than him.

Of course he knew about the money. Nearly the entire Order was being paid from his own vaults. Again, he wasn’t half as stupid as people thought.

Making his way to the owlery, he let out a soft whistle and dug out some blank parchment, a quill and some ink, while he waited for Hedwig to fly down from her perch.

_To the Potter Accountant,_

_I understand that this is not how things are usually done, but in the event of my death, I have some bequeathals that need to be made._

_First, to everyone who has been getting an illegal monthly stipend from my accounts, I give you each ten thousand galleons. If you’re willing to steal the money, rather than just ask, I assume you are in dire need and I know that my death would stop your monthly payments. Hopefully this helps._

_Second, I want to give fifty thousand galleons to Professor Severus Snape so that he won’t need to keep the job that obviously makes him so unhappy, as well as anything in my vaults pertaining to potions that are not Potter family heirlooms. Travel, brew, open a bookstore. Whatever you want. Also, to you, I leave this… My deepest apologies for the way I acted toward you over the past six years, and for the transgressions of my father. He was wrong, and your experiences with him have made me ashamed to call myself a Potter._

_Third, half of my remaining money, along with Hedwig and All of the Potter heirlooms, goes to my godfather Sirius Orion Black._

_The remainder of my money should be donated to the Spell Damage Unit at St. Mungo’s, for research and cure development._

_Lastly, to Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini, I leave only this. I forgive you for everything, and I genuinely hope that you can be happy now._

He signed the letter and nicked his finger to allow several drops of blood to fall next to his name.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Harry said with a smile, petting the soft plumage of his truest friend. “I need this letter to get to Gringotts as quickly as possible, okay? Do you think you can make it there before sunrise?”

She hooted at him proudly.

“Of course you can, sweet bird. You are the best of the best, aren’t you?” He snuggled her for a moment. “Now, after this has been delivered, I want you to go stay with Sirius, okay? Him and Remus are going to take good care of you. Go on then. Remember, before sunrise.” He felt bad, knowing that sunrise was less than an hour away, but she had gone on longer trips in short amounts of time. She would be able to rest at Headquarters, since it was so close by. She would be fine.

With one final hoot, she lifted off, her claws accidentally tore one of the books he had been reading. Oops.

Harry took a deep breath and went up to the Astronomy tower. He had to wait until sunrise so that his improperly submitted Will could be enacted, so for a while, he focused on pooling his magic into his hands.

Just as the sun began to rise, his hands glowed in the same vibrant green as the killing curse and he held them over his heart. He released the magic and everything went white.

\-----

“Answer the bloody door!” Draco snapped, barely coherent.

Severus startled at the sound and leapt up immediately alert. What the devil was that tap-scratching sound? Whoever it was, they were not going to be happy for waking him at such an ungodly hour. People might think he was a vampire, but quite enjoyed his sleep at night and was downright vicious when disturbed.

Preparing to shout at whoever had the audacity to wake him, he wrenched the door open… only to be attacked by a mass of white.

It only took a second or two to realize he was being mauled by a white owl and he put his arms up to fend off the attack.

The owl let out a long cry and swiped at the man’s arm.

Severus tripped over the coffee table and landed on his backside. “Immobulus!” He shouted, holding his arm out in front of the blasted bird.

To his immense relief, the bird slowed to a stop, freezing in midair.

“Hedwig?” Came Draco’s groggy voice from the doorway. “Sev, what happened? Are you all right?” He helped his lover up.

“Potter’s damned owl attacked me.” Severus snarled.

Draco gently grabbed the owl and cast a ‘finite’ to free the poor thing. He struggled for a moment to calm her down and keep her from taking off again, but she relented. “Good girl,” he said kindly. “That’s it, calm.”

She shifted free and unfurled her claw, a torn page falling to the floor.

“Is that for me?” Draco asked.

Giving an affirmative hoot, she then landed on Severus’ shoulder and dropped a letter in his hands.

“The bird is mistaken.” Severus said flatly. “This is not addressed to me, but to the Potter account manager at Gringotts. Take the letter to them, bird.”

Hedwig pecked his head several times before Severus shouted out. “Fine! I’ll open the damned thing if you get the hell off of me!”

While she didn’t move, she did stop pecking the man.

“Open that letter!” Draco shouted, white as a sheet. His hands were shaking.

Knitting his brow in confusion, Severus attempted to stand. “Draco, wh-”

“Right fucking now, Severus!”

Surprised at the outburst, he did as asked, skimming over the first paragraph. “Bequeathals? At his age? Please, does he really think-”

“Shut up! Where is he Hedwig?” Draco said, already heading for the door, not bothering to put on a dressing gown or slippers.

Hedwig flew out the open doorway and shot off down the corridor with Draco sprinting after her.

Severus stared in open confusion for a few minutes before following.

Ten minutes later, the completely out of breath couple panted in the doorway of the owlery, but there was no sign of the Potter Heir anywhere.

“Harry?” Draco called out breathlessly, hoping the raven haired boy was under his invisibility cloak. “Hello? Harry, are you here?”

“He is not here,” Severus said shortly, gaining back his strength from their long run up too many flights of stairs. “Now will you tell me what has gotten you so upset? I understand that the letter was odd, but-”

“Severus, will you stop?” Draco begged, desperation lacing his words. “The page Hedwig gave me was from some book, detailing various ways to break a soulmate bond! We need to find him before he does something stupid and gets himself and my friends killed!”

“You truly believe the boy might be suicidal?” Severus asked skeptically, ignoring the admittedly worrisome letter, now wishing he had read its’ entirety. “Why? He didn’t get enough gifts for Christmas?”

Draco stared at him in astonishment. “I don’t understand you at all. Since the beginning of the year, I’ve been telling you that he isn’t what you think. He isn’t what I thought. How is it that I’m only sixteen and can see past five years of petty rivalry, whereas you’re thirty-seven, and can’t get over an imaginary slight! I know that you had issues with his father, but he is not his father! I am so tired of trying, and failing, to tell you this! You might be the Professor here, but you’re acting like a bloody child! Grow up, Severus! I’m going to look for Harry. Do whatever you want.” He took off, leaving the potions Master gaping.

It wasn’t more than a few seconds before Severus sighed and carefully followed his worried mate back down the snow-slicked steps.

“Dragon!” He called sharply. “Stop!”

Much to their mutual surprise, the blond did stop. He turned to the potions Master with an incredulous look on his face. “Wh-”

“Expecto Patronum!” Severus said softly. “Find the nearest ghost and make it follow you to Harry Potter with a message. ‘Whatever you are about to do, you must not.’”

"Do you really think he'll stop?" Draco asked with tears clinging to his lashes.

"We won't know until whatever ghost my patronus found returns." Severus said sadly.

They went to the main staircase to wait.

It didn't take long for Madam Pomfrey to run past them, shouting for her colleague to follow as she ran.

Even though she didn't acknowledge Draco, he caught up to her quickly. She barely took notice, never breaking stride. Panting heavily, she charged up the stairs leading to the Astronomy tower and promptly screamed when the door opened.

Only a step behind her, Draco and Severus skidded to a halt.

There on the ground, lay Harry, arching painfully backwards as a thick black mist appeared to be pulling him up by his chest. His eyes were flickering from red to his usual emerald, less and less as the mist pulled. The sheer volume of magic in the room was stifling, making it difficult for them to breathe.

Gasping for air, the trio moved closer, wanting nothing more than to help the anguished boy.

At that moment, Harry opened his mouth and let out the most haunting scream any of them had ever heard. It was deafeningly loud and even at a low pitch, the others covered their ears and backed away. More mist, thicker than the rest, poured from his mouth, cutting off his screams. The oppressive magic dropped them to their knees and continued to grow.

As quickly as the magic became nearly crippling in its intensity, the mist expanded to the point of blocking the entire night sky. The magic and the mist dissipated entirely and Harry fell limply to the floor.

Poppy rushed forward, not realizing that her companions had crumpled at the same time.

\-----

There was light, but not what he expected. It wasn’t the dazzling pure white that was usually associated with dying, but rather as if someone was shining a muggle torch on his face. He tried to cover his face, only to find that he couldn’t move his arms. He pulled harder and realized that his wrists were bound. In a panic, Harry kept pulling, finally opening his eyes, worried that he had somehow been captured before he was able to do what he set out to do.

Whimpering, he kept pulling. He was in the infirmary. He stopped pulling. It hadn’t worked. Why didn’t it work? It should have worked! The spell was there! It had made his hands glow, and there was no mistaking that color for any other magic!

While he wanted to be angry, and perhaps on some level he was, mostly though, he just felt hollow and cheated. Letting his arms sag, he stared at the ceiling.  
Occasionally, there were small sounds. Someone shifting, a light sleepy huff, and once a small groan. It wasn’t until the infirmary was flooded with light that there was any substantial noise.

He kept still and closed his eyes when he heard Madam Pomfrey bustling about, not wanting to deal with her or anyone else for that matter.

A little while later, he heard the massive wooden doors open.

Footsteps came closer to his bed.

Eyes still closed, he didn’t move.

“You think it’s awake?” Oh, shit. Blaise.

“If not, it’s about to be.” Theo growled.

Whatever Harry expected, getting slapped across the face in the middle of the infirmary was not it. He gasped, unable to continue feigning sleep.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Potter?” Theo grabbed Harry’s chin and held him still, getting close enough that they could each feel the others’ breath. “Are you trying to make us look bad? Do you have any fucking idea what this little stunt of yours will do to our reputations when this gets out? We found out about it from Peeves! It’s bad enough that we’re bound to a bloody defective, but the fact that it’s you makes it that much worse. Poor Blaise and I are already the laughingstocks among the purebloods, and you decide to pull this shit?”

Harry didn’t say a word.

“It’s bad enough that we have to play the ‘concerned mates’, but now we’re going to miss all of our classes for the day.” Blaise scoffed.

“If we fall behind because of a pathetic little bastard like you, I promise, you will regret it.”

“Pomfrey incoming,” Blaise whispered quickly.

“Praetexo! Somnum!” Theo hissed, pointing his wand at Harry’s face. Stowing the wand away, he looked up at the medi-witch with concern. “How long till he wakes up, Madam Pomfrey?”

“What happened to him?” Blaise asked tearfully. “Why is he bound like that?”

“I want you to understand that the only reason I’m telling you this, is because you are his bondmates, otherwise I wouldn’t say a word. And you won’t tell anyone.”

They nodded their agreement. “Yes, ma’am.”

She took a steadying breath. “Early this morning, I was summoned by the Grey Lady-”

“The Ravenclaw ghost?” Theo asked, confused.

“Yes, Mr. Nott.” She confirmed. “She came to me for help. She found Mr. Potter in the Astronomy tower, attempting to take his own life.”

“What?” Blaise croaked, sitting heavily on a neighboring bed. “Why would he do such a thing?”

“I can’t answer that, Mr. Zabini.” She replied sadly. “Only he can.”

“Is there-” Theo cleared his throat. “Is there anything we can do? That we need to know? You know, to help?”

She smiled warmly at the two Slytherins. “For now, we have to wait for him to wake up, but after that, he’s likely to need a lot of support from you both, as well as a watchful eye. Failed suicide attempts are often followed by repeat attempts. Naturally, he’s going to need his mates. I’m going to write you a list of counsellors who specialize in cases like this, alright?”

“We’ll owl them right away.” Blaise assured her, and took Harry’s hand.

Theo mirrored the motion. “I don’t understand, Madam Pomfrey. He was fine when we all left for break. I mean, we didn’t get to see him when we got back, but… I just don’t get it.”

“The human mind is capable of incredible things, but it’s still a fragile thing, boys.” She patted Theo’s shoulder gently. “You’ve already been excused from lessons today, so you can stay as long as you like. Alright?”

“Thank you, ma’am,” they said together.

“One of us will get you as soon as he wakes up.” Blaise said sweetly.

She smiled at them again, before excusing herself.

\-----

Draco covered his mouth in shock. “Severus?” He whispered, feeling the privacy wards flare up around him.

“I heard them, Dragon.” Came the incredulous reply. He moved the curtain on the right, and Draco pulled his own aside.

“How is that possible?” Draco asked, feeling ill. “What could make them act that way toward Harry?” Soulmates fought, after all, they were still human at the end of the day, but to say the things that they did… It didn’t make sense. How could someone actually hate their soulmate? Soulmates are a gift from magic, guiding people to the one(s) that will love them unconditionally. What his friends were saying, that wasn’t love. That was hate and disgust.

Even when they were enemies, Draco had never acted that way with him. Usually, it had been insult for insult, but Harry hadn’t even tried to defend himself.

Severus couldn’t explain it either. “Truthfully, I cannot say.” He was stunned by the venom spewed by his snakes. Of course, he knew that they could be vicious, but to their soulmate? “Perhaps we should…”

Voices outside their privacy bubble stopped him.

“Finite!”

“Why the hell did you wake it up?” Blaise asked. “Don’t tell me you actually mean to talk to it?”

“Of course not,” Theo scoffed. “But it is going to listen.”

There was a pause. Draco and Severus stared at each other, and the professor cast a charm over their curtains that allowed them to see through, but not let anyone else see inside.

Theo and Blaise sat on either side of Harry’s bed, and while Harry was blank, the Slytherins looked livid.

Draco groped for his wand, not taking his eyes from the triad, and cast a spying charm that would amplify his friends’ voices. The privacy ward would keep anyone from overhearing.

“-really think that anyone else would be stupid enough to put up with you?” Theo demanded. “Merlin knows we don’t want to, but I guess we just drew the short straw, didn’t we?”

“Broken straw’s more like it.” Blaise sneered, reaching out to flick Harry’s prick.

Harry didn’t wince, but Draco and Severus did, having felt a sympathetic sting.

“Now, you listen to me.” Theo said, his tone startling Draco. “After you get released from here, you’re going straight back to our room. I’m going to reactivate your pendant, so that you’re ready to properly apologize for being so fucking stupid. It had better be a damn good apology too, otherwise I’m going first.”

Neither Severus nor Draco knew what Theo had meant, but judging by the look on Harry’s face, it wasn’t good.

“If you beg prettily enough, I’ll go first.” Blaise smirked, sprawling out on the bed.

Still, Harry stayed silent.

Theo pulled Harry’s curtain shut.

Immediately, Severus cast the same charm on the other set.

“You know, love,” Blaise began. “These bindings make me think of that Hogsmeade weekend, right before Yule break. Maybe we could do that again.”

“Now, there’s an idea.” Theo grabbed Harry’s chin again. “Do you want to be strung up again? I’ll even be nice and put that plug in that you liked so much.”

Harry jerked his chin out of Theo’s grip, but never said a word.

Why wasn’t he doing anything? Draco wondered. And what the hell was wrong with his friends? “We have to do something about this!”

“As unfortunate as the situation is, there is no legal recourse for verbal abuse.” While Severus’ words seemed callous, there was obvious sadness in his voice.

Their attention was drawn back to the triad.

“Oh, look, Blaise!” Theo mocked. “It thinks it has permission to speak!”

“And with such fire!” Blaise said sarcastically. “It’s bad manners to swear at people. Especially your betters.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Theo was quicker. “Spiritus Subsisto!”

Draco and Severus gasped, but it stopped there. Neither of them could breathe.

As one, Harry, Draco and Severus all clamored for air. Still bound, Harry writhed against the padded straps, while Draco clawed at his chest and throat, and Severus frantically went for his wand. He tried to cast a finite but his wordless magic wasn’t very strong.

Heart hammering in his chest, he aimed his wand at Poppy’s office door and pushed as much magic as he could muster in his rapidly declining ability, and let it loose.

What sounded like a cannon blast, rattled the windows and doors.

Madam Pomfrey flew out of her office, her wand brandished like a sword. “What happened?!”

Blaise and Theo were just as confused and Blaise slipped out from behind the curtain.

Strange colored spots began forming in three sets of eyes as they fought to stay conscious.

With a flick of her wand, all the curtains flew open.

Theo’s eyes widened and he dropped the spell, praying that she didn’t notice.

Severus, Draco and Harry gasped desperately, feeling lightheaded.

“Ligabis eos!” Severus shouted hoarsely, pointing his wand at Theo and Blaise, still gasping as they were bound in chains and fell to the flagstone floor.

“Expelliarmus!” Draco wheezed dizzily, dropping back onto his pillow.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Poppy cried out, bewildered.

“Call… Aurors…” Severus said, pausing for air. “Now!”

\-----

“You seriously expect us to believe that someone tried to murder their soulmate?” Auror Grayson snorted, rolling his eyes. “Now pull the other one.”

Severus snarled. “They are not soulmates!”

“Everyone in the wizarding world knows that,” the Auror thumbed in the direction of Harry. “That boy is mated to those two. It’s been in every bloody paper in the country for months.”

Having difficulty containing his anger, Draco clenched his sheets so tightly that his knuckles were white. “But he isn’t!” He hissed.

Throughout the entire exchange, Harry was silent. In fact, he hadn’t spoken since he supposedly swore at Theo. “What do you mean, I’m not?” He asked hopefully from across the room, his voice rough.

“Your mark, as well as mine and Draco’s, have been tampered with.” Severus looked at the young man who now had tears in his eyes that never fell.

“It’s a nice thought, professor, but it’s not possible.” Harry wrapped his arms around himself to gain some sort of comfort.

Draco’s jaw dropped. “That day in the corridor. We knew it wasn’t the Slytherins. It was you.”

Brow furrowed in confusion, Harry waited for someone to speak.

“Both Healers Crowe and Abingteal are able to confirm that they have been tampered with.” Severus said easily. “We, ourselves, only found out about it on the first day of the holiday break. Until today, we had no idea who the third member of our union was.”

“Do you have any idea how much dark magic that would take?” Another Auror snorted. “No one has that much power.”

“It is not merely dark magic.” Severus replied coldly. “It is black magic.”

“There was nothing in the books I went through about that.” Harry said, still not fully believing or understanding what was being said. “The auror is right. Bonds can’t be tampered with, only broken. I went through every book in the restricted section about them so I could break mine.” He gasped. He hadn’t meant to mention that part.

Oh shit.

Suddenly everyone was talking, arguing, shouting. It was too much.

Quick as a flash, Draco was off his bed and going to Harry’s, who was curling in on himself.

Jerking back, Harry lifted his gaze.

The panic in his eyes broke Draco’s heart. “Come here.” He held out his arms. "Just ignore them, Harry. They're all being stupid."

"Aren't you?" Harry asked incredulously. "And the professor? What you're talking about is impossible. What are you trying to do to me?"

Draco blinked. "You act like you've never gotten hugged before." His statement sounded suspiciously like a question.

"Of course I have!" Harry snapped, with a small amount of hesitation. He had been hugged by Hermione once, so it wasn't a lie. "Do you and the professor need to spend some time at St. Mungo's? You're both clearly mad."

The floo roared to life and two women stepped out of the emerald flames.

"Well, while I'm not surprised to see you both in an infirmary, I see that Mr. Malfoy doesn't seem to be in any sort of pain. Master Snape, how are you feeling today?"

"For the first time in weeks, I'm pleased to say I am no longer in pain." Severus said, indeed sounding pleased. "Dragon?"

"I'm fine." Came the dismissive response. He turned his attention back to Harry.

Harry was so confused, but not about the soulmate nonsense. They were wrong, no matter how much he wished they weren't. What had him at a loss was Draco. "You're fine? I've never known you not to try to garner as much attention as possible at the slightest hint of injury, but suddenly you're fine? You really should go to St Mungo's. Either that or someone is going to have to check for polyjuice potion."

Much to everyone's shock, it was Severus who broke the silence by chuckling.

"Malfoy," one of the aurors barked. "We still need your statement about what happened. Get your ass over here."

"How dare you?!" Madam Pomfrey demanded. "That boy has done nothing wrong, yet you insist on treating him like a criminal!"

The auror rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say. I still need his formal statement."

"And why, may I ask, can I not make it from here? I'm only four meters away from you!"

Ah. Maybe it really is Draco after all, Harry mused. Pompous little shite.

As angry as the auror was, he really couldn't argue that point. It didn't mean that he wouldn't. "Listen, you lit-"

"Please," Severus sneered. "Do continue that sentence. I'm quite sure that both of his mates and his parents would be happy to hear your thoughts."

All eyes went to the massive wooden doors that no one seemed to hear open. There stood Lord and Lady Malfoy, and they looked livid. Lucius raised one brow. "Auror Ngyu," he said with clear distaste. "Are you verbally harassing my son for a reason?"

Ngyu didn't seem cowed by the man at all, but his partner sure was. "Look, Malfoy, I was called in to find out what the hell is going on, and I intend to do just that."

"Lord Malfoy," the other auror began, exasperated. "I apologize for my partner's rudeness."

Lucius sneered, but nodded sharply. "Now, Draco, perhaps you could give this auror whatever information he is in need of?"

"Of course, father." Draco said easily. From there, he explained what he and Severus witnessed in the infirmary, much to Harry's horror and humiliation.

Every pair of widened eyes was now glued to Harry, who was doing his best to vanish on the spot, holding back tears.

The partner, whose name was still unknown, was the first to speak. "May I ask what brought you here today?"

Harry shook his head quickly.

"Or why you have been strung up like an animal?" Narcissa wondered aloud, both concerned and confused.

Again, he shook his head, though his tears did escape. He didn't want to talk about that, or even think about it. Certainly not to them of all people.

He knew that his obituary would be explanation enough, in time. It would still happen. It had to. There was only so much one person could take before it all became too much, and he was well beyond that point. It was a shame that it would have to wait, but it didn't matter.

"Madam Pomfrey," she asked in a pitying tone. "Is there any way you would consider taking them off?"

"I'm sorry," came the sad reply. "After any suicide attempt, there is a seventy-two hour confinement period. That's the law."

"What the fuck ever happened to 'healer/patient confidentiality'?!" Harry shouted at the matron.

Severus was shocked as well. Hadn’t the woman said about not letting word get out to Nott and Zabini, less than half an hour ago? Then she announces it in front of two aurors, a professor, another student, and said student’s parents?

Narcissa gasped. “Sui-” She cut herself off, unable to even say the word.

“Is he truly your third, Severus?” Lucius asked, looking at his longtime friend incredulously.

“No!” “Yes.” “Yes, father,” came the replies from Harry, Severus and Draco respectively.

“That’s a load of Griffin shit, and you know it.” Auror Ngyu said, rolling his eyes. “We’ve already established that it’s impossible, and even Potter agrees with me.”

Harry stayed silent, gripping the sheets so tightly that his knuckles were white.

“It will be simple enough to find out.” Healer Crowe said calmly. “All I will need to do is see the soulmarks of all five of those in question.”

Having dealt with it over the holidays, Draco and Severus sighed, but easily relented. Harry, however, was pissed. “Do I even get a fucking say in any of this? I mean, it’s not as if I can physically stop you!” He yanked on his bindings harshly for emphasis. “But, I suppose that doesn’t matter, does it?”

With tears in his eyes, Draco sat on the bed next to the brunet. “Of course it matters, Harry,” he said quietly, reaching slowly for the younger boy’s hand.

Out of habit, Harry tried to pull away, but it did no good.

“Please don’t do that, Harry,” Draco begged. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

When he clasped the small hand in his own, all three of them cried out in pain. Only Harry was unable to double over and cover his mark, as Severus and Draco had done.

In unison, the three fell unconscious.


End file.
